Of Poppies and Niphredil and A King's Heart
by AfricanDaisy
Summary: Boredom leads an elfling to explore the Thousand Caves of Doriath, and though all does not go according to plan, it will be a night to remember. In the direct sequel, she is determined not to make the same mistake twice. WARNING: This story contains spanking of a child as a form of discipline, and it is OC-centric. Please do not read if this will bother you.
1. Poppies and Niphredil

**Disclaimer: Anything recognisable as Tolkien's is not mine, but any OCs belong to me and my co-writer Kaylee. We are not making any money from this.**

**Warnings: This story contains spanking of a child in both chapters. I respectfully ask that you please do not read if this is likely to offend you, and if you do choose to read and it still offends you, that you do not send a flame.**

**A/N: This is a continuation of The Greenwood Chronicles, though its current focus is still the Doriathrin characters. Neldiel is now eighteen, the human equivalent of seven, nearly eight.**

**...**

Clad in a silk gown of palest rose, with a silver-blue sash around her waist and matching ribbons in her dark hair, Neldiel slipped unseen through clusters of mingling and dancing elves. Satin and velvet and silk brushed her arms as she passed, and perfume tickled her nose; lavender, rose, citrus and lily. Nobody noticed her, not really, and those few who did soon dismissed her from their thoughts. She was an elfling, just a little girl, and soon enough she would be sent off to bed with the other children whilst the adults danced and laughed and drank their way into the night.

Neldiel was very sure that was so, but it wasn't time for bed just yet. Part of her was a little annoyed by that. It had been some hours since the feast had started, and the novelty of the exquisite food and the lovely gowns and the sparkling jewels had worn off. There was only so much of each that an eighteen year old elfling could take, and this eighteen year old elfling was going to make her own fun.

She disappeared through a small side door that was unguarded, and once out of the ballroom, she broke into a run and darted through the brightly lit caverns of Aran Elu's subterranean palace. It was easy to get lost there. Not for nothing was it called The Thousand Caves. But Neldiel knew her way around the main halls well enough, having visited her father at work and dined with the royal family and accompanied her family to feasts and dances just like the one they had been invited to that night. She had figured out where was guarded and where was not, and she had even been clever enough to memorise the easiest and fastest ways to get outside. Though there was only one doorway into the palace, there were plenty of roofless caverns, open to the starry skies, where flowers bloomed and trees reached for the heavens.

Neldiel made her way to the one she knew was nearest, and stood on her tiptoes to unlatch the gate. The latch lifted easily and she slipped through, biting her lip in excitement as she saw it was raining outside. The smooth steps that led down into the garden were mostly dry, protected by overhanging stone, though the night breeze had spattered them with a few rain droplets here and there. She stopped on the bottom step and closed her eyes, before drawing a deep breath and jumping out onto the grass.

It was slippery with rain, but she kept her balance and spun around in delight. Her skirt flared out, skimming the scarlet poppies that grew in abundance. The smooth walls of the open aired cavern were slick and glistening wetly, and the elfling stopped to stick her tongue out and catch rainwater on her tongue. Some of it slipped down inside her dress and trickled down the back of her neck, but she didn't really mind all that much. She just giggled and danced again, twirling happily.

Suddenly a hand caught hers from behind, an elleth's delicate hand, and she found herself being lightly spun around. Her eyes widened as she supposed her mother or one of her elder sisters had come for her. But it was none of them, and instead she gazed up into the merrily sparkling eyes of the King and Queen's daughter. "You will be missed ere long, little one," Lúthien said, her lips curving into a smile.

Neldiel held Lúthien's hand and twirled herself beneath the older elleth's arm. "Did you get bored too, Princess?"

The half Maia-half elven woman made a non-committal sound, her below waist-length black hair flying out behind her as she spun the elfling again. "It is rather crowded in there," she admitted. "I prefer the open air. Dancing in the rain is nice, is it not?" She lifted Neldiel and whirled with effortless grace, her silk slippers barely touching the wet ground. As she danced, silver-white _niphredil_ sprang from the earth she passed over, thirstily drinking in the rain.

Neldiel gasped softly, and as she was lowered back to her feet, she went to her knees in the soaked grass, running her fingers over the velvet petals. Smiling, Lúthien stopped and watched. "You like them, little one? I think they like you." She knelt and whispered to the flowers, and her smile widened as the petals nodded toward Neldiel. "Oh, yes, they like you very much."

"They're so pretty," Neldiel whispered.

"So are you," Lúthien replied. "Like a little flower yourself."

The elfling smiled and straightened, her gown swirling out around her and her hair sending droplets of water everywhere as she spun again. Lúthien laughed, a sound like silver bells, and she lifted Neldiel into her arms, twirling around with her. "Do Brandir and Siliveth know you are here?" she asked, dropping a kiss on the little girl's brow as more _niphredil _blossomed in the wake of her dancing.

With her arms wrapped around Lúthien's neck, Neldiel smiled mischievously, her turquoise eyes sparkling. "No."

"Then they shall be mad with worry as soon as they realise you are gone. And you know my little brother does not like it when you make him worry." Lúthien tossed Neldiel into the air and caught her again. "He'll be very upset, little one."

"But I'm not lost, Princess Lúthien," the elfling pointed out. "We know where I am, don't we?"

"Ah, we do. You are in the poppy garden, dancing in the rain," Lúthien replied. "But they don't know that. What does your adar say when he doesn't know where you are?"

"He doesn't _say _very much," Neldiel admitted.

Lúthien laughed softly and stopped dancing, rocking the elfling a little. The rain came down harder, making Neldiel shiver, and the princess glanced involuntarily skywards. "It is going to get worse. Come, we shall have to swim back inside if we stay out any longer."

Giggling at the image, Neldiel wriggled out of Lúthien's arms and ran back up the steps and through the gate. She waited inside the well-lit hallway for her father's foster sister to join her, water sliding off her gown and her hair to make a little puddle on the floor around her. Lúthien came through the gate a moment later, pausing to close and lock it, and when she turned to face the elfling, she smiled serenely. She was dry from head to foot, as though the rain had not touched her. Her rippling hair with the pearls strung through was immaculate and smooth, and her indigo gown with its pearl-trimmed silver and pale blue floral bodice was dry.

Lúthien unnecessarily straightened her silver circlet, before folding her hands in her wide sleeves and regarding Neldiel. "I ought to get you dried, and I'll need to brush your hair. I shall take you to my chamber." She drew breath to say somewhat more, but then she hesitated, her grey eyes lifting and going past the elfling.

Oblivious, Neldiel spun around, water spraying everywhere, and immediately collided with an ellon striding towards them from the other direction. She took a step back, startled. "Lúthien, go and find Brandir," the ellon snapped.

Neldiel blinked, wondering who would have the audacity to speak so rudely to the princess of all people. As Lúthien passed her with eyes glinting in wry amusement and a slightly sympathetic expression on her lovely face, Neldiel dared to look up. Oh. _Oh. _The King stared down at her, his arms folded over his broad chest. His grey eyes, a shade lighter than his daughter's, were icy, and his handsome face was as stern as she had ever seen it. _Oh. _She curtseyed to him. It was a very nice curtsey, although as she was wet from head to foot, it wasn't a particularly impressive one.

"I'm very sorry, Your Majesty," she said.

"You will be," Elu said shortly, glaring down at the child. "Such unmannerly behaviour ill becomes you, Brandiriel."

Neldiel squirmed for a moment, before her attention was caught by a smear of wet dirt on the King's otherwise immaculate white robes. She used her sash, which didn't have any dirt on it, just water, to try and rub the mud off. Elu wasn't appeased by her trying to make it better though, for he took an abrupt step back and spoke sharply to her. "_Enough. _Be _still._"

Quickly withdrawing her hand and holding both of them behind her back, Neldiel studied the floor. Water from her gown had made a good-sized puddle on it, and she resisted the temptation to put the toe of her slipper in it and draw patterns. She was fairly sure that Aran Elu would be most unhappy with her if she did that. She stood quietly and as still as she could manage, even though she really did want to squirm uncomfortably beneath the King's severe gaze, and though it felt like hours, it wasn't long before Lúthien returned with Queen Melian, Brandir and Siliveth.

Siliveth looked dismayed and Brandir thoroughly disapproving, whilst Melian had the hints of amusement playing at the corners of her mouth. As Lúthien danced away again, Brandir bowed stiffly to his King and foster father, before turning a stern look on his youngest daughter. "_Where _have you been, elfling?"

"I was in the poppy garden, Ada," Neldiel explained. "I was dancing, like everyone else, but I wasn't doing it inside."

"You know better than to run off alone," Brandir scolded. "You know better than to play outside in your fine clothes when it is raining. Look at the mess you have made, and _look _at what you have done to the King's robes."

"Getting rain and dirt on the King was an accident. I didn't _mean _to do that," Neldiel replied. "He was just…there. And even if I'd not been wet and muddy, I still would have run into him and he'd still be cross with me even if he _was_ dry and clean. I did say I was very sorry."

"Even so, you should not have done it. I am _ashamed _of your behaviour, acting so in front of the King and Queen, and you ought to be too," Brandir said sharply.

Sighing softly, Neldiel idly drew her foot back and forth across the floor a couple of times. "I _am _sorry," she repeated, not sure what else she could say.

Melian shook her head and glanced at Siliveth as if to say _'ellyn…'_, though Siliveth only managed an uncertain smile in return, conscious of the King standing there. The Queen placed her hand briefly on Elu's shoulder, and the mud and damp patches vanished from his robes. After drying and cleaning Neldiel the same way, with a single thought, Melian leaned down and gently lifted the elfling's chin. "Next time, ask your adar and naneth's permission before leaving their sight, little one. If they say no, do not leave them."

Neldiel curtseyed to the Queen. It looked better now she wasn't dripping with rain. "Yes, Your Grace," she said politely, and a touch shyly.

"Good girl," Melian said fondly.

When Brandir was alone with Siliveth and Neldiel, Elu having curtly dismissed them and swept away whilst his Maia wife smiled benevolently and calmly followed, he drew a deep breath. "Beloved," he said quietly. "I am taking Neldiel home. I will send the carriage back for you and the girls."

"Very well, meleth," Siliveth replied. "We will not be home late. Neldiel, be _good _for your father."

She left to return to the feast and her older daughters, and Neldiel slipped her hand into Brandir's, looking up at him through thick lashes. "I'm sorry that I was naughty, Ada."

"I daresay," Brandir said drily, holding his daughter's hand firmly as he led her through the palace, "you will be sorrier when I get you home."

"The King said I would be sorry, too," Neldiel muttered.

"Indeed," Brandir murmured. "He is quite good at keeping his promises."

"Well, he isn't keeping any promises, because he isn't dealing with me," the elfling pointed out. "You are."

"Did he say he would be the one to deal with you?" Brandir asked. "He may plan on dealing with you as well."

Neldiel stopped so suddenly that her father had to stop as well, or else risk hurting her arm. "What?" she demanded. _"Why?"_

"Because he is the King, and my foster-father, and it would be his right," Brandir said quietly, looking down at his daughter with a grave expression on his handsome face. "If he so chose."

"But Ada," Neldiel protested softly. She gripped her father's hand tightly as they walked on, taking the swiftest route to leave the palace. They passed the feasting hall, sounds of music and dancing and laughter floating out. "Ada, I said a very nice sorry to the King, _and _I tried to clean his robes for him."

"I said, he _may _plan on it," Brandir repeated. "I do not know."

Neldiel sighed quietly, and when they reached the great door that led out of the subterranean palace, she put her arms up for her father to lift her. "The King is always cross," she observed.

"He is greatly burdened," Brandir said quietly, picking the elfling up and carrying her outside, past the guards. The carriage was already there waiting for them, the matched bay horses covered with rain-specked blankets. Brandir spoke briefly to the driver, his hand cradling Neldiel's head against his shoulder, before climbing into the carriage and settling on the forward facing padded seat. He set his daughter down next to him, though she promptly climbed into his lap. He sighed softly, but didn't move her.

"Maybe the King ought to try baking a cake," Neldiel said wisely. "It might cheer him up."

Though Brandir smiled faintly, he stayed silent. It was a quiet ride home, the wind and rain that lashed the windows drowning out even the sound of the horses' hooves. Neldiel sat with her head against her father's chest, watching the raindrops making intricate patterns on the window, watching the trees eerily shaking their branches. When the carriage passed through the double gates of Lord Brandir's estate, and the lights of the manor came into view, Neldiel stirred and looked up. "Are you going to smack me?"

The loremaster softly hushed his daughter as they drew up outside the house. He got out and thanked the carriage driver, before sweeping inside the house and carrying Neldiel up to her bedroom. A servant, having anticipated that the littlest lady of the household would be brought home soon to be put to bed, had lit the lamps and set a nightgown out on the bed. Brandir sat next to it and stood Neldiel in front of him, his hands resting on her shoulders.

"What rules did you break tonight?" he asked, finally answering her question with a question of his own.

"Going away without asking and playing in the rain and…well, I suppose running inside," Neldiel admitted reluctantly. "But I didn't run far, only a few steps."

"Do you remember why you are not to leave us without asking permission?"

"Because…I might get lost and you won't know where to find me."

Brandir nodded grimly, his sea green eyes hard. "If you run off and I do not know where you are, I would not be able to help you if you were lying hurt or sick somewhere," he said quietly. "You are only little. Anything could happen to you." He looked sternly at his youngest elfling. "You _know _that for breaking rules such as that one, _safety _rules, you will be smacked. As for the rest of it…playing in a light rain is not so naughty if you ask and receive permission, and if you are dressed correctly for it, _and_ if you come inside before the rain falls too heavily – none of those things happened, did they?"

"No," Neldiel said quietly, twirling a lock of dark hair around her finger.

"No, so that too was naughty. Thirdly, running in the halls," Brandir continued firmly. "What have you been told about _that_?"

"That it's not proper behaviour for a lady," Neldiel replied, with a soft sigh. She didn't like to point out that she wasn't a lady, just a girl elfling who didn't want to be a lady when she grew up anyway. "And that I might fall and hurt myself."

Brandir gave a brief nod. "Getting the King wet was an accident, yes, but an avoidable one, and if Aran Elu chooses to discuss that with you, then you will behave for him and accept your punishment with good grace."

Not particularly liking the thought of being smacked by the King himself, Neldiel shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. She didn't think that Aran Elu would give hugs after. Not that Brandir often gave big cuddles after a spanking, unless it had been a bad one, but he did usually give her a brief hug or a kiss at the very least. She didn't think the King would do even that. Still, she was in trouble enough as it was, so she sighed quietly and gave her father an obedient nod. "Yes, Ada."

"Good girl." Brandir paused and looked at his daughter, his hand briefly tightening on her small shoulder. "It will be the brush from me. You risked yourself, and that I cannot have."

"Ada, the hairbrush really hurts," Neldiel whispered, leaning forward and twining her arms around Brandir's neck.

"I am not going to use it the entire time," Brandir replied quietly. "You know I would not. Now, get ready for bed then bring the brush to me."

Neldiel undressed, with some help from her father when she couldn't manage the silk covered buttons at the back of her gown. When she was clad in her clean, warm nightgown, she glanced at Brandir, wondering if he had forgotten about the hairbrush. He hadn't, for he nodded meaningfully to it, saying nothing. Exhaling, her heart heavy and thrumming with nervous anticipation, Neldiel retrieved it from the dressing table and carried it back to the bed.

When Brandir had his child settled in position, he bared her bottom easily, flipping up the back of her nightgown. He put his left hand on her back to keep her from wriggling. After a quiet word to warn her that it was time, he began, his hand rising and falling repeatedly on the upturned bottom over his lap. Neldiel's cheeks turned pink quickly under the onslaught of smacks, and she whimpered softly, tightly gripping a fistful of Brandir's robes.

When the elfling's bottom was bright pink all over, the lord paused and picked up the hairbrush. Neldiel stirred, and rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand. "Ada? Can I have m-my doll, please?" Her favourite doll was resting against the pillows, and she couldn't reach her without wriggling halfway off her father's lap.

Brandir reached the doll easily and gave her to Neldiel, who softly thanked him and cuddled Akachi close. After giving his little daughter's back a light rub, he began with the hairbrush. The swats weren't anywhere near as hard as he could have made them, but they were firm enough for Neldiel, young as she was. Still, Brandir intended to make an impression, so he shared out half a dozen sharp smacks between her cheeks, turning them dark pink, before moving on to her more sensitive spots.

Clutching her doll with one hand and clinging to Brandir's robes with the other, Neldiel sobbed as her little bottom burned all over. She cried out incoherent words meant to be apologies and promises to be a good girl, and when Brandir gathered her and her doll up into his arms, she curled herself against his chest. "Ada," she wept, pressing her hand to her stinging bottom. "Ada, sorry I was n-naughty, sorry…"

"I forgive you, iel-laes," Brandir soothed quietly. "It is done with now."

Neldiel heaved a heavy sigh laden with tears, and she hid her face in the soft watered silk of her father's robes. She cried for a while longer, cuddling her doll and methodically carding her fingers through Akachi's black hair for her own comfort. When she was calm enough, she looked up, scrubbing at the tear trails on her cheeks. "Princess Lúthien made flowers," she told Brandir in a whisper.

"Did she?" Brandir smiled faintly, recalling all the times his elder foster sister had done the very same thing for him when he had been a boy. "Yes, she likes to do that."

"I liked them," Neldiel sniffled, rubbing her eyes. "I thought they were pretty. Princess Lúthien said I was like a flower."

"You are," Brandir said softly. "Flowers are pretty, and so are you. You will grow up to be just as beautiful as your nana."

Neldiel turned her face against her upper arm, drying the tears still lingering on her lashes. "Miniel and Tadiel will be prettiest."

"No, iel-laes. You will all be," the lord murmured, cuddling his youngest close. "My beautiful girls."

Though the elfling was fairly sure she would never be beautiful like statuesque Siliveth or elegant Miniel, or even adolescent Tadiel who carried her beauty with careless grace, she liked that her father thought otherwise, so she pressed a bit closer to him and suppressed a yawn. Brandir smiled and gave her a last embrace before tucking her and Akachi into bed. "It is time for elflings to sleep," he said, his voice low and soothing, his hand stroking Neldiel's hair. "Goodnight, iel-laes."

"Goodnight, Ada," Neldiel whispered.

She was aware of the lamp being turned down as she closed her eyes, darkness settling in all around her save for a thin strip of light that streamed in from the hallway through the slightly ajar door. Neldiel yawned again and cuddled her doll. It hurt. It hurt a fair bit, for she wasn't accustomed to her parents making their displeasure known with her maple-backed hairbrush. But as she thought of the fresh rain, of the poppies and fragrant _niphredil_, of laughter, of Princess Lúthien…she smiled sleepily. It had been worth it.


	2. The King's Heart

As it happened, Aran Elu seemed disinclined to discuss _that _unfortunate collision any further. For Neldiel's part, she avoided the palace lest he changed his mind – Kings could do that whenever they wanted, she supposed – and butterflies danced deep in her stomach whenever her father got home; she was worried that he might tell her that Aran Elu had summoned her. But that did not come to pass, and slowly, she stopped fretting that she would be in any more trouble. It seemed that if anything more was to happen, it would have happened already.

There was one summons that she received, and it pleased her more than any from the King could have. She had been invited to breakfast with Princess Lúthien, with the promise of playing outside amongst the flowers now that the weather had turned fair. Neldiel was still a little doubtful about showing her face at the palace, especially in the royal quarters, but she could hardly say no to the daughter of Aran Elu and Bereth Melian, who was, more or less, a sort of aunt to her. Unlike most adults, Lúthien was never too stuffy about rules and decorum, tolerating elfling mischief with fond indulgence, and indeed, Neldiel rather liked her for a playmate even though she was ever so much older – older even than Neldiel's own parents. Besides, the Princess seemed to like many of the same things Neldiel liked for breakfast, which was another persuasive reason to accept the invite.

On a day that there were no lessons, Neldiel left the manor early with her father whilst her mother and elder sisters broke their fast together. They arrived at the palace in good time; such good time, that Lord Brandir had time enough to stop in his office and set out his work for the day, with the promise that he would take Neldiel to the royal quarters in fifteen minutes and she would still be perfectly on time. Neldiel begged and pleaded and made her eyes wide and her lashes flutter, and eventually her father conceded that yes, she may walk by herself, as long as she took _no _detours and went _straight _there, because he would know if she didn't.

Neldiel promised, and she set off feeling quite grown-up, walking straight-backed and sedately. That didn't last. When she was a safe distance away from her father's office, she broke into a run, excited by the prospect of breakfast with Brandir's sort-of-big-sister. As she ran, she collided with someone coming from the opposite direction and ran straight into their legs. She quickly apologised as she disentangled herself from their robes, though she was relieved it wasn't the King she had run into. She didn't think that even she could be that unlucky, to collide with him twice in the same week.

"Sorry," she gasped, as she stepped back and straightened her dress.

"Yes, I recall you were sorry last time," the King of Doriath said coldly, taking the elfling by the hand.

"Oh, Aran Elu!" Neldiel paused. "Oh." Her face fell. "Aran Elu."

If the King was even the slightest bit impressed by the little girl's audacious bravery, he did not show it, neither laughing nor allowing the barest hint of a smile to touch his lips. He merely looked down at her, stern and austere. "_What_," he said quietly, "have you been told about running inside?"

Privately, Neldiel rather thought that Aran Elu was the problem. If he wasn't in her way all the time, she wouldn't keep running into him. Instead, because she didn't think he'd like it much if she said that, she replied, "That I ought not to run, Your Majesty. But you see, I'm meant to be having breakfast with Princess Lúthien."

"Breakfast shall have to be delayed, and you will give her your apologies." Dismissing his guards with a wave of his hand, Elu led Neldiel through the royal quarters with their silk hangings and elaborate tapestries hanging on smooth walls, to Lúthien's suite of rooms. The Princess was there waiting, and she rose from her couch looking rather dismayed at the sight of her royal father's glacial expression.

"Adar," she greeted him, before turning to Neldiel. "What happened, little one?"

"Aran Elu walked into…" The elfling hesitated and refocused her thoughts. "I mean, I ran into him."

Lúthien regarded Neldiel in quiet sympathy, her grey eyes kind and soft. "Adar, I believe Dagnir is still tucked away in my chest," she said. "Would you like me to check?"

"As you will," Elu said neutrally, keeping Neldiel by the hand as he followed his daughter into her chamber.

Princess Lúthien knelt by the oak chest at the foot of her bed, the skirt of her silver-embroidered sapphire gown settling around her in folds. She opened the lid of the chest, and after a few moments of searching, plucked out a worn grey rabbit who, with a chipped eye and several patches where he had been sewn up through Lúthien's childhood, looked like he had quite earned his name. The Princess rose gracefully and turned, placing the rabbit in Neldiel's arms.

"I know you don't have Akachi or Gíleth with you," she said softly. "Dagnir will look after you."

Neldiel paused, not understanding, not taking Lúthien's meaning. But then she realised, and she bit her lip. She looked up, a flash of worry passing over her face, but the Princess only bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to her brow. Then she was left alone with the King, and as she clutched Dagnir close and swallowed hard, Aran Elu led her to the bed and commanded her to get into position.

"But…you're the King," she whispered.

"And?"

Neldiel chewed her lower lip, though she stopped a moment later lest it displease Elu. He was an elf, of course, an ellon like her father Brandir, like Daerada Ravondir and Daerada Aearondir, like Uncle Baralin and his brothers Arvellon and Ramirith, like her cousins Galuchil and Turion and Míradan, even like horrible Lord Celepharn. _And yet._ He was a king. He was _the King. _He was the most important ellon in the whole kingdom – even if he wasn't the most important ellon to _her_. He could put people in gaol and cut off their heads and do all sorts of other things that only Kings could do. And now he expected her to be quite comfortable with him smacking her bottom.

"I…don't know," she admitted quietly. "Just…you're the King."

"Suppose you were naughty for Lord Ravondir, then," Elu said, "or perhaps Lord Aearondir?"

"They would spank me," Neldiel replied promptly. "Well, maybe not Daerada Aearondir. But Daerada Ravondir would."

"Indeed," Elu agreed. "So your objection is…"

The little girl tilted her head, frowning slightly, and she wasn't sure how to ask the King what his point was without sounding rude and getting into even more trouble. "I don't understand why you said about Daerada Ravondir and Daerada Aearondir, Your Majesty," she said eventually. She didn't think Elu would mind her saying that, since her parents had always told her to ask for help if she didn't understand things.

"For a time, Lord Aearondir and Lady Beldes were absent when your father was a child," Elu replied quietly. "You know that he lived with us, and our daughter was as an elder sister to him. The Queen and I were as his parents, whilst his true parents were elsewhere."

"Yes," Neldiel agreed. "Ada told me that Princess Lúthien broke his best toy horse when he was little, and she used to make flowers for him."

"So, though I am indeed the King as you have said, I am also another daeradar to you, Neldiel," Elu continued. "Your father was my foster-son. His reunion with Lord Aearondir and Lady Beldes changes that not at all."

Neldiel thought carefully. She had known that her grandparents, for reasons kept secret from her, had not been there to raise their son. She had known that he had been raised instead by Elu and Melian. She had never considered _this _before. "You're not like my Daerada Ravondir and Daerada Aearondir, Your Majesty," she said slowly.

"Am I not?"

"I _call _them 'Daerada'," Neldiel replied. "And they love me."

"You think I do not love you?" Elu asked, his eyebrows rising sharply.

"I never thought you liked me," the elfling confessed.

Elu paused for a long moment. He wasn't a sentimental ellon. The King of Doriath was hard and proud and stubborn. Those he loved got hurt, he had learnt early on. It was Melian who had cleaved to him, thawed his heart and given him a daughter to love, his Lúthien, who had softened him just that little bit more. And as for Brandir…Brandir's father had been his friend, in Cuiviénen; they had played together beneath the bright stars as small children. Duty, more than anything, had made him take in his friend's child when Aearondir and Beldes had disappeared. Duty at first, yes, but he had grown to be fond of Brandir, to take pride in his accomplishments and, in time, to view him as a son. He had – and did – love Brandir, as much as he was able to, just as he loved Lúthien.

"Neldiel, you are my foster-son's daughter," Elu said finally. "I have always taken pride in Brandir's children."

"Is that the same as loving us?" Neldiel asked, sounding hopeful.

Another pause, and then Elu nodded briefly, not trusting himself to speak. After a lifetime of hurt and heartbreak, after loving and losing again and again, he wasn't sure he knew how to love properly, not anymore, but this was the nearest he could come to it. So for him, yes, it amounted to the same thing. Neldiel, oblivious and pleased, just replied, "Oh, well, that's all right". She paused, and then added graciously, "You may smack me now."

Elu's mouth twitched ever so slightly. "Thank you, little one," he said drily. "Into position, then."

Neldiel obeyed, keeping Princess Lúthien's old rabbit close as the King bared her bottom and began the punishment without any further discussion. The swats fell in rapid succession, and as Neldiel squeezed her eyes shut against the tears stinging them and pressed her lips tightly together, she made sure she kept both hands on Dagnir. Brandir tolerated it when she grabbed a fistful of his robes, but she didn't think Elu would be too pleased.

The smacks that covered her sensitive sit spots and undercurves made her toes curl, and she bit back a whimper and furiously blinked away tears; she wasn't sure if she was allowed to cry in front of the King. Certainly, she didn't want to give him a reason to be even more cross. She was spared from reaching that point though, for after a final few swats, Elu patted Neldiel's back gently and righted her. "There, little one," he said quietly. "Brave girl."

The elfling rubbed her eyes quickly, letting out a shuddering breath as she tried to compose herself. "I'm very sorry that I ran into you, Your Majesty," she sniffled. "Again."

"It is forgiven, but do not let it happen again," Elu replied.

"Have I got to tell Ada?" Neldiel whispered. "He'll be ever so cross to hear that I made the _King _spank me."

Elu shook his head briefly. "It is done. Go now, Lúthien is waiting."

After tucking the old rabbit under her arm and fixing her clothing properly, Neldiel curtseyed. She straightened and backed away a few steps as she knew protocol demanded, and when she left the room, she walked, nicely and slowly, to search out Lúthien. She found her in the private dining room that adjoined the lounge area, waiting at a table laden with a good selection of aromatic breakfast delicacies and cordials. As soon as Neldiel entered, Lúthien rose to meet her and take her into a gentle embrace.

"Are you feeling well, sweetness?" she asked kindly.

Neldiel was never sure how anyone could ask such a thing if they knew she had just been spanked. "My bottom stings," she told the older elleth.

"I know. Give it a minute," Lúthien murmured. As she held Neldiel, she lowered her hand to the seat of the little girl's dress, focusing on the warmth and pain hidden away beneath layers of silk. "There, now…is that better?"

"It went!" Neldiel gasped, her eyes widening as she realised that the sting had ebbed away until it was barely there.

Lúthien smiled very slightly, a serene little smile that said it would be their secret. She set the elfling down at the table and resumed her seat, uncovering the dishes of eggs whipped into a creamy fluff, toasted bread, smoked river salmon, berries, fruit and cheese, and pitchers of milk, cream and cordial. She served herself, and allowed Neldiel to do the same, smiling as the small girl looked delighted at the privilege.

"Did you ever do that for Ada?" Neldiel asked, when breakfast was underway. "Take his pain away?"

"Ah, well, your father found trouble rarely. He was a quiet, serious boy, ever eager to please Adar and Naneth, though that is not to say he _never _earned himself a smacking," Lúthien replied, sounding thoughtful as she remembered. She carefully laid down her fork and propped her chin on her hand, gazing into the past. "I did it for him once without asking if he wished me to, and he was most upset."

"Upset," Neldiel repeated, wrinkling her nose. "Why?"

"Brandir was as honourable an elfling as he is a grown ellon," Lúthien said gently. "He did not think it right."

Neldiel thought about that as she popped a bright strawberry dipped in cream into her mouth. When it was gone, she looked across the table at Lúthien. "Does that make me dishonourable, Princess?"

"It makes you different, sweet girl," Lúthien said fondly, reaching out to caress Neldiel's cheek with the back of her fingers. "And different is good."

Neldiel smiled, her blue-green eyes alight with pleasure at praise from the Princess. "Then that's not so bad."

"No," Lúthien agreed, returning the smile. "It's not so bad at all."


End file.
